


Please don't bite

by umiwomitai



Category: Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst with a Happy Ending, Changgu is mentioned quickly, Demon!Hyojong, Demon!HyunA, Demon!Yuto, Fluff, I Tried, M/M, for once yeah a happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-05 14:41:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14046486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/umiwomitai/pseuds/umiwomitai
Summary: Demons living in the Human World need to feed off of humans from time to time. The time has come for Hyojong to feed himself, except that nothing happens like he wants to.It might not be a bad thing though.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> It's me again with something no one asked for but I still wrote. 
> 
> This idea all comes from the wicked but amazing brain of my friend Aude, so thank you dear. She also chose 5 sentences from a random prompt list so that will be hidden throughout the whole thing.  
> This will be posted in two parts as it really is starting to be very long. It should come soon, as in "probably three weeks from now if i stop procrastinating" so yeah you won't wait too long. 
> 
> This is a mess, but I liked writing it so I hope you'll like reading it!
> 
> (once again english is not my first language so I apologize in advance for any mistake and lack of actually interesting and diverse vocabulary)

The lights flashing behind his eyelids, fast, like lightning. Feeling dizzy in the best way, as if high on drugs or so drunk he can’t feel his body anymore. This exact feeling, filling him up fully until he almost passes out, is the best thing he has ever felt in his whole life.

 

He hasn’t felt it in years, now. Even though he needs it less and less as the time he spends in this world passes by, he is still feeling tingles in the tip of his fingers from time to time, his body getting tired a little faster, his nights of sleep getting slowly but surely longer.

 

Time has come for him to feed again.

 

Except that feeding off of human souls isn’t as easy as it used to. That is the main reason why most demons would rather remain in their own world, or the angels'. The Human World has stopped being safer than the Angel Domain a long time ago, and Hyojong is one of the demons dumb enough to take the risk.

 

If he remembers well - he probably doesn’t - there are not more than 20 demons here. He knows only half of them, the others mostly remaining in hidden places, far away from any human. He has heard of a demon living in the mountains, near the Mount Everest, feeding off of the souls of those fools who died trying to reach the top.

 

He himself, however, isn’t very fond of laziness and _frozen food_ , as he calls it. He has to admit that there is an unparalleled thrill in having to feed himself without getting caught. He appreciates the difficulty of catching his prey more than the actual feeding part.

 

Sitting at his favorite tool at the bar of his favorite club, he is contemplating the crowd below him, internally selecting potential preys. None of them seems reachable. That small girl, which could be the perfect prey, is constantly surrounded by her friends. This boy, drunk enough not to remember ever meeting him, is definitely too young ; he probably shouldn’t be here at all.

 

The thing is, Hyojong has principles. Values. Moral. Whatever fancy words humans like to use in those circonstances. He personally favorises _ways of living_ . There are a few, like not killing, not getting involved in politics - Demonic Politics has been quite a trauma - and never, _never_ , feeding off of minors . Even demons have a conscience. They wouldn’t kill or “eat” a child, no matter his race. A child remains a child.

 

He finishes his drink and leaves after a quick smile at the barmaid. Nothing interesting for tonight.

 

* * *

 

The next day is a work day. A few years ago, he has started working at a cat cafe, being particularly loved by these creatures. Back in the Demon Realm, he used to have a pet similar to cats ; he assumes that is the whole reason behind this attraction.

 

Everyone seems to appreciate him here, and as he has been working there longer than any other waiter, his coworkers treat him with respect. He likes this situation as it is, learning to appreciate a more peaceful live than his previous one.

 

This day is slow, like every Tuesday, and he is cleaning the back-room when he hears the little tingle of the bell near the door. A customer.

 

He takes off the rubber gloves and goes back inside with a smile. This is a group of young men, probably around twenty, that he has never seen here before. Not uncommon, but interesting enough to be noted, he makes sure to make them sit at a table he can watch over from behind the counter.  

 

He gets them their drinks, polite and smiling, and answers a few questions about the cats. He likes that part the most, when clients are genuinely curious about the animals there. He has written their descriptive cards himself, always taking care of them even in his free time.

 

“One of my friends told me about this cafe, and she mentioned an old Norwegian Forest cat. Is it not here?”

 

“Oh. Sadly, Nikky is not in the cafe anymore. She is really old indeed so we gave her away to be adopted in a home to finish her life peacefully. But we’ll most likely get a new one soon, so come back in a few weeks!” he adds with a professional smile.

 

He then goes back to the counter when he sees another man entering the cafe.

 

“Hello, welcome to our cafe, what would like to have?”

 

“Hm. Could I have a glass of juice?”

 

“What juice?” Hyojong asks without looking up at the man, his hands hovering over the order screen.

 

“O-orange?”

 

“An orange juice, then! Anything else?” he adds, this time looking up at the man.

 

Seeing him this close, he suddenly forgets to smile and starts admiring him. He is tall, with long legs and long fingers, big eyes and an even bigger smile (though a bit shy), and shiny hair delicately parted. He is, for a lack of better words, _angelic_. And Hyojong knows perfectly well about angels, how they are supposed to be the most stunning and wonderful creatures ever created.

 

It is plain bullshit to him. This man is a thousand times prettier than any angel currently breathing in their stupid heavenly world. And he wants to make him his, out of sheer pride. How wonderful it will be to have this person just for him, and then feed off of him as often as he wants to. How thrilling it would be to slowly but surely draw him towards himself, making him feel like it was _right._ The demon inside him is already drooling just thinking about it.

 

A breaking noise makes him snap out of his thoughts.

 

“Ah, one cat must have escaped in the back-room. Please take a sit while I take care of this, will you?”

 

“Oh, of course!”

 

The man smiles a little and goes to take the seat nearest to the counter. Hyojong smiles to himself, content.

 

* * *

 

“Hello, Hyojong.”

 

“Yuto. It’s been quite some time.” He raises his eyebrows at him as he puts down the glass he was cleaning before he came in. “What brings you here?”

 

“A message, from Alexander. He wants you to stop doing, and I’m quoting here, ‘ _shitty little tricks with that dumbass human_ ’. He seemed quite pissed off, to be honest…” Yuto mumbles, munching on the pastry he’s just taken from behind the counter.

 

“First of all, don’t touch that or I’m gonna get into trouble. And I don’t know “a dumbass human”. He’s the only dumbass here and he knows it. Now get your filthy ass out of this shop before I kick you out.”

 

“You wouldn’t. I’m pretty sure you like me in secret.”

 

“If I tell you, it’s not a secret anymore.” Hyojong answers automatically, having heard the kid say this to him way too many times already.

 

He puts away all the clean glasses and starts cleaning the tables, Yuto following him around. It is not that his presence bothers him, it is actually nice to have fellow demons to talk to from time to time. However, all demons who live in this world know how dangerous it is for them to stay in groups. They are more vulnerable, their masquerade inches away from falling into pieces.

 

He is feeling antsy and wary as the messenger is here, always eyeing outside, body tense and hands restless. It gets worse as they hear the recognizable tingle of the bell attached to the door. They look at each other. Hyojong fumbles with the rag, putting it back into the front pocket of his apron, and with a wave, Yuto disappears in front of him.

 

He sighs, going towards the counter to welcome the customer.

 

“Good afternoon, welcome to the cafe. What will you be having?”

 

“Hm. I would like an… americano? Cold?”

 

Hyojong’s face splits up in a wide smile, looking up at the man. He missed him.

 

“An iced americano, that is. Something else? I personally recommend our apricot cake, or the apple pie.”

 

“Oh, hm, that’s… I’m fine, thank you.”

 

“Is it to go?”

 

“To… what? No. I’ll… take a table.”

 

Hyojong smiles to himself. Despite the obvious progress the man has made with Korean, he still seems to have a hard time forming full sentences quickly.

 

“Then you can go take a seat while I make your coffee, sir.”

 

Not even a minute after, Hyojong gets to his table to give him his drink. The man is so caught up in playing with the cat that he doesn’t notice his presence. The drink ends up on the table as he crouches down next to him.

 

“This one is Vessia. She doesn’t like many people apart from me. I’m surprised she likes you.”

 

“Oh. I’m glad she does. I love cats. I wanted to come here before but I was busy.”

 

Softly, Hyojong smiles at him, resting his head on his knees as he turns it toward the other man.

 

“I’m glad you came.”

 

As expected, the man blushes furiously, embarrassed by the sweet words. Hyojong gets amused at his reactions, finding him cuter and cuter as time passes. The coffee is long forgotten as they start talking about the cats, and coffee, and music, and about how the man misses China but likes it a lot here nonetheless. And Hyojong almost lets it slip that he misses his home too, but can’t talk about his him for obvious reasons, so he just sits there, Brownie on his lap, listening to all the stories the man has to tell about his trips around Asia.

 

Turn outs that, after more than an hour of talking, the man is named Yanan and was just to shy to come back to the cafe.

“I am still not good with ordering food. But I kept thinking of the cats here…”

 

“You really love cats.”

 

“I do!”

 

Hyojong beams at him, suddenly fond of the smile Yanan has when he speaks about what he likes. He finally gets up, stretching his numb legs. The hunger is starting to get more and more present.

 

“I have to close the store now.”

 

“Oh. Oh, alright. Then, I’ll just take-”

 

“You can stay.” Hyojong says in a rush, offering a shy smile that makes Yanan avoid his gaze. “Stay with the cat, and maybe after I can walk you home. Sounds good?”

 

Yanan still doesn’t look at him, but he can perfectly well see the blush that creeps up his neck as he says “sounds good” with the softest voice.

 

* * *

 

Usually, Hyojong likes to play with his preys. The last time, he had toyed with the girl for weeks, making her almost beg at his knees for an ounce of attention. He had enjoyed it more than ever, seeing the desperate look on her face when he had finally accepted to let her in.

 

This time, though, he isn’t looking for the energy of food. He just wants Yanan, as a whole, only for him because he is selfish and behaves like a child. He wants him, and he wants him now.

 

So, when they step out of the cafe, each buttoning their coat, he smiles at him with all his demonic power, appreciating the blush that comes out of it. As they are walking toward the bus stop, he sneakily takes his hand in his hand, the other man not daring to say a word after that. When they reach the bus stop, he makes him sit and stands before him. It looks intimate, this proximity making him anticipate even more.

 

“Ah, hyung… take a seat too.”

 

“I like it better here. I seem taller than you.” he says with a playful tone.

 

He grabs Yanan’s other hand and plays with his finger, pretending he’s not aware of how embarrassed he is. He knows perfectly the effect he has on him, sees it in the way he blushes and tries to shimmy away from his hold, from his gaze. He knows it and loves it, how he is able to drive him to the edge, letting Yanan imagine, anticipate, whatever he has on his mind. It’s thrilling and makes adrenaline flow in his blood, making him want more, always more.

 

But the bus arrives, and they get it, and there are just enough people to make Yana shrug away his hands and sit as far away from him as he can. _Of fucking course_ , Hyojong swears under his breath. Humans aren’t as fun to deal with when there are others to judge them on their behaviour.

 

“When will you get off?” he asks Yanan after a moment.

 

“Next stop. Hm… and you?”

 

Hyojong wants to give a playful answer, but takes it back before the words even form on his tongue. It’s probably for the best not to push him too far. Today was enough.

 

“After you.”

 

“Will you… Hm…”

 

He turns to him, and sees him fiddling with his sleeves, long finger getting tangled. He thinks that he could watch his hands for the rest of his life. Eventually he looks at him, giving him an encouraging nod.

 

“Can you walk back with me?”

 

At this exact moment, Hyojong strongly wants to directly take him in his arms and kiss him and hold him until he’s full of energy, falling asleep right against him. It surprises even himself, how soft the other man is, but mostly how soft he himself is for him. It sure is new, but he wouldn’t say he hates it.

 

“If you want me to, yeah. Sure.”

 

“Yeah. Yes. Alright. It’s this stop, hyung,” Yanan adds when he notices that Hyojong isn’t making a move to get up from his seat.

 

Hyojong gets startled and gets up, pulling Yanan with him by the wrist, making sure he doesn’t embarrass him. It isn’t like himself, to be so considerate, but it all comes so naturally he doesn’t want to think about it.

 

They walk back in soft silence, only surrounded by the city lights and far away sounds. Soon enough, they arrived in front of Yanan’s apartment building, and Hyojong knows they’re supposed to part ways now. He has to go back home, and get some sleep. He has to. Doesn’t mean he wants to.

 

“Thank you… for today. I know we don’t really know each other, but… this was like a nice date.”

 

“It was, yeah. I really liked it.”

 

Yanan grabs his hand, face even redder than before, though he’s not sure whether it’s from the cold or something else. He likes to think it’s something else.

 

“This might sound odd, and I’d understand, really, it is for me too… but I’m glad I met you. And… maybe we could go on a real date someday?” he said, softly, as if he was asking himself.

 

“You’d like that?” Hyojong ponders out loud.

 

“Yeah. Yes, I think so.”

 

Just like that, in a few seconds, they have exchanged numbers, and are waving goodbye, even though Yanan doesn’t even move. Hyojong thinks that it’s it, that’s the moment he was waiting for, that’s the opportunity he won’t get again, so he grabs Yanan by the neck and pulls a little to kiss him.

 

And nothing happens like planned.

 

They kiss, for a few seconds, before Yanan takes a step back, beet red but smiling, and finally leaves after a small muttered “goodnight”. All Hyojong can do is stand here, without moving, the wind shuffling through his hair.

 

He should have been able to feed off of him with that kiss. He should have felt this rush of pure energy inside him, rushing over and making him feel this bliss he was seaking.

 

The kiss was good, indeed. But it was just a kiss. Nothing more. It _should_ have been so much more.

 

“Fuck.This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

 

* * *

 

He hasn’t slept, and it is quite obvious on his face. He knows he looks like a wreck, but he desperately needs answers.

 

When he arrives in front of the old building, he realises that it’s only 6 in the morning and that he probably should have waited more before coming here. He still knocks on the door, three times, like always. The wind is getting even colder and stronger than the night before, but the storm inside him is too strong for him to care.

 

The light suddenly appears through the window on his right, and he can hear distant noise and muffled swears - probably thrown at him - through the door. It finally opens and reveals the grumpy face of a woman, slightly shorter than him, but definitely way more impressive than he could ever become.

 

“Hyojong… I should have known you’re the only idiot that could come wake me up at this hour.”

 

“Hello, HyunA. You missed me?”

 

“Absolutely not. What did you do again?”

 

Hyojong smirks, a fake innocent look plastered on his face, and she lets him in with a sigh. They cross the main room to get into the small kitchen in the back. She pours water in an old metal kettle and motions for him to start talking. He remembers the kettle, it’s from the Demon Realm. He is pretty sure it’s one he had stolen for her.

 

“I think… I think something is wrong with me.”

 

“It’s high time you found out, sweetheart.”

 

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

 

She turns to her left to grab teacups in the cupboard. They’re porcelain, delicately painted with blue flowers. They are her favorites, she barely ever takes them out. She must have sensed how tense he is.

 

“Go on.”

 

“There’s this human who came to the cafe a few weeks ago. He’s freaking beautiful, and I know you’re gonna laugh at that, but he’s even prettier than Changgu.”

 

“That is a lot of pretty for a human being.”

 

“I know right? Sounds ridiculous as fuck.”

 

He takes the cup when it’s ready and takes off his shoes to put his feet on the chair as he sips his tea.

 

“But anyway. I wanted to feed from him, you know? It’s been years since the last time, and he seemed bloody perfect.”

 

“But?” she says tentatively, raising an eyebrow from behind her cup.

 

“Nothing fucking happened. Yesterday he came at the cafe and we talked for hours and I even took him back home. And I was thinking about fucking waiting, you know. I could have. But he was standing there being so fucking pretty, it was infuriating, so I kissed him.”

 

“And nothing?”

 

“Nothing.”

 

He sighs heavily and puts away his tea, letting his head fall backwards and his eyes shut. As far as he knows, not being able to feed off of humans when you are a perfectly correct demon is totally unheard of. He is not really the type to get afraid, but there is no logical reason that could explain this and the mere idea of being cursed by something he knows nothing about terrifies him.

 

“Do you think there is something wrong with me?”

 

“I hope not. Not being able to feed is not a good sign for a demon…”

 

“Yeah, I know… that’s what happened to…”

 

“Yes.”

 

The silent gets heavy with unspoken words they both know too well. HyunA seems to be lost in her thoughts, but after a long minute she gets up in silence, leaving the room. Hyojong knows her, she probably is in her storage room, going through every book she owns about demons and feeding. That’s what he was hoping for when he decided to come here ; an answer coming from books, from people who knew perfectly well about this topic, from those who had experienced it.

 

He needs to know he isn’t going crazy, or worst, dying.

 

She comes back after a moment, an old book in her hands and glasses on her head. Hyojong knows perfectly she doesn’t need glasses to see perfectly well, but she argues that it’s part of her character.

 

“There’s nothing that seems to explain it, Hyo. There’s a bunch of cases, but nothing that could have happened to you. I’m afraid I have no answers.”

 

She sits next to him, showing him the parts of the book that explain the different cases, and indeed, none of these things could affect him. In a way, he feels relieved. But he still has questions.

 

“At least I don’t have a problem.”

 

“But it still happened. Do you think that… this human might be the reason?”

 

“There’s only one way to find out, right?”

 

“Hyojong, if you do something bad…”

 

“Me? I would never, you know that.” he reassures her with a sweet smile.

 

“You’re a horrible liar. I’ve known you far too long to be able to tell.”

 

He shrugs, getting up and picking up his shoes from the ground, before throwing them over his shoulder. He smirks in the way he knows she hates and kisses her goodbye before leaving the old shop.

 

He needs to find out.

 

* * *

 

They keep seeing each other after that, Hyojong enjoying the situation a little more than he should. He must admit that the thrill of the unknown is something he hasn’t felt in decades, and it feels incredibly good.

 

But soon enough, two months go by and the answers are still nowhere to be found. He feels his body growing weaker faster and faster, falling asleep everywhere he goes. His hair is starting to fade too. He’s feeling desperate, and Yanan is making him crazy.

 

He is pretty sure he is half angel, always so kind and way too pure for this world. He keeps blushing everytime he kisses him, he keeps getting flustered when he holds in hand in public, he keeps smiling like an idiot when Hyojong is nice to him. In a way, Hyojong feels like he’s sinning.

 

Then he remembers that he is, by definition, a sinner already. And it makes him like it even more. The feeling he gets from being the one corrupting Yanan is too good to be true.

 

Tonight, he is supposed to eat with him at his place. He has to close the shop, so he cleans quickly, says goodbye to the cats and text his boss to say he has left before going his way toward Yanan’s apartment. He knows his way around perfectly, and despite the heavy snow, he chooses to walk.

 

He is already cold and wet when he arrives, and as expected, Yanan pulls him inside and goes to get him a towel and dry clothes.

 

“I’m sorry, it’s probably a little too big for you, but that’s all I have.”

 

“Don’t worry Anie, it’s fine. I don’t mind it.”

 

He quickly dries his hair, and just as fast takes off his hoodie and his shirt, making the other man blush, eyes wide. He smiles at him, faking thankfulness, when really he’s just enjoying the power he has on him.

 

“Thanks.”

 

“Don’t… don’t worry. Hey, Hyojong. What is the meaning of your tattoos?” he says as he goes in the kitchen to bring back the food.

 

Yanan has often asked the question. Hyojong has avoided it everytime. His tattoos all come from ‘ _back home_ ’, as he says sometimes, even though he never really said where he is actually from. They are special, _magic_ , and definitely will start fading too if he doesn’t find energy soon. They are, in a way, keeping him alive, safe and sound in such an hostile world, and most importantly, keep his demonic features hidden from the human eye. They are everything for him, but he can’t say that.

 

He doesn’t want to lie to Yanan, though, so he just shrugs.

 

“I just like them. I created the designs myself. I was pretty full of myself back then,” he adds playfully through a mouthful of rice.

 

“I like them too. The one on your back… is very pretty. And the one on your neck. It’s fascinating.”

 

He looks at him with a knowing smile, making him look down with embarrassment. They keep eating in silence, the music playing as background noise distracting them. As they finished, Hyojong started feeling sleepy. He hated it, being the one asking to go to bed, and falling asleep first.

 

He gets up and follows after Yanan, hugging him from the back.

 

“Are you sleepy again?”

 

“Hm.”

 

“Then go take a shower and I’ll finish cleaning ok?”

 

Hyojong nods and leaves a small kiss in his neck. He lingers long enough to fill himself with Yanan’s scent. It drives him on, but he stills goes to take a shower.

 

Under the hot steamy water, he lets himself appreciate the relief. He looks at his hair, getting closer to being white, and then at his tattoos, burning him because of the water. His skin becomes red and itchy, and soon enough he turn off the tap and comes out, not bearing any more of this incomfort.

 

He starts drying his hair, watching himself in the mirror. It’s odd, how much he has changed over the years since he left the Demon Realm. In times like this, however, he’s not sure he dislikes it. Sometimes he surprises himself thinking he might actually appreciate this simple life, with the coffee shop, the cats, and his Yanan.

 

He hears two knocks on the door and Yanan comes in with a pile of neatly folded clothes - pyjamas. He smiles at him and suddenly blushes and turns away.

 

“Hyojong.... You’re naked.”

 

He lets out a loud laugh, clear like crystal, amused at Yanan’s embarrassment.

 

“Well yeah. You didn’t expect me to shower with clothes on, right?”

 

“Haha… sorry, I thought… Well… here. Your clothes. For the night.”

 

He holds them out, not turning around, a hand still clasped on his eyes. Hyojong grabs his wrists and makes him turn on himself, bringing him closer than he should have considering his condition.

 

He lets his left hand grab the other wrist and lower his hand, looking at him dead in the eyes. Yanan doesn’t avoid him, but he still looks terrified. Hyojong isn’t sure whether he likes this look on him.

 

“I’m not gonna hurt you Anie. You know that right?”

 

“Yes… I’m just… I’ve never done that.”

 

“Let me guide you then.” he whispers against his ear, before slowly licking it. He can feel the shiver that runs through his man’s body, and has to hold back a moan at the mere thought of the effect he has on him.

 

Then, in a second, he has him against the wall, kissing him with more force and passion than he has ever put in a kiss, and his hands are under his shirt. He pulls at the fabric, bites on his lips, tangles his fingers in his hair and grabs it with just enough force to make him move backwards. He keeps kissing, trying hard not to get to caught up in the sensations.

 

“But you feel just too fucking good Anie. So fucking good. I want you whole, just for me.”

 

The only sounds that come out of his mouth are faint complaints and muffled moans, as well as failed attempts at calling his name. His hands are locked in his hair, pulling just enough.

 

And then, Hyojong bites a little to hard, and blood starts spilling out of the wound. His instincts are the first to react, and he starts licking, sucking, swallowing every drop of blood he can get, because souls are not the only way for them to feed and he hasn’t tasted blood in so long. The sensation is addicting, but the moans change into cries, real complaints, and he pulls away, feeling his own body starting to burn.

 

It burns, in the worst way possible. He wants to cry and scream but can only curl up on the floor, swear words flowing out his throat in a raspy and deep tone. Yanan lets himself slip onto the floor too, his hand tightly held up on his neck at the exact spot where he got bitten.

 

“What the fucking hell did happen?” he manages to whisper through heavy breaths.

 

“I… don’t know. Fuck. It hurts so much. What did you do to me?” Hyojong almost yells at him, eyes now full of anger and pain. He sees how shocked Yanan is, but he can’t bring himself to care when his whole body has been put in this state because of some blood.

 

“What? You… you bite me and hurt me and… and I’m in the wrong?”

 

A bitter laughs comes out of him in a way Hyojong didn’t think he was capable of. They remain there without moving for a few more minutes, before he finally collects himself and gets up to put on decent clothes. He spares a look at Yanan before leaving.

 

“Get your ass out of here and in my car. We’re going somewhere. It’s not a question.”

 

He grabs his pants and his phone, putting them on as he dials the number he needs. His interlocutor answers as he is buttoning his shirt.

 

“I need you to be at the shop in 30 minutes. It’s urgent. I’m bringing Yanan. I need answers, and I need them now.”

 

* * *

 

The ride to the shop is silent, none of them bothering to talk. Yanan probably has lots of questions to ask, but he keeps looking through the window, arms crossed against his chest. Hyojong is sure he is upset. But he doesn’t care.

 

There is something wrong with this whole thing. With them. With what they’ve done. With Yanan. He doesn’t know exactly, but he’ll find out soon enough. He can’t bare to ignore the pain his blood caused him.

 

He parks in front of the building and gets off, not waiting for the man to follow him. The door is ajar, letting rays of light seep through it. He gets in, heading directly towards the kitchen where HyunA is, hair a mess, still wearing her pyjamas.

 

“This is the second time you wake me up in two months, you better have a good reason.”

 

“He burned me.”

 

“What?”

 

She says that as if surprised, but her face is blank, and she keeps drinking her tea in calm. She does move though when Yanan steps in. He doesn’t look angry anymore, probably more confused than anything else. Hyojong looks at him quickly before grabbing him by the wrist, making him stand closer to HyunA. He then lowers his collar, displaying the wound in the dim light.

 

“I bit him. I didn’t think through in the heat of the moment, but it suddenly started burning me as soon as his blood touched my tongue. And it kept burning. I…”

 

He releases Yanan, putting his face in his hands.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt this, HyunA. This was… this was terrifying. I thought I was gonna burst.”

 

He turned back towards them. HyunA was standing next to the human, examining the wound. She motioned towards the hallway, and they follow. They go up two flights of stairs, stopping in front of an old door. She whispers a few words in a language Hyojong hasn’t heard in centuries, and pushes the door open.

 

Inside, it’s full of even older books and dust, that has been accumulating for God knows how long. Yanan coughs and blinks to chase away the dust.

 

“Take a sit there,” she commands him as she starts looking for something in a box.

 

Hyojong watches her as she examines Yanan’s wound in details. He feels like a kid, not knowing what to do, not understanding what is happening, just being there full of anger and resentment. He moves around the room, grabbing a few books to read the title only to put them back where he found them.

 

“Hyojong. Come here.”

 

He turns around. Hyuna is standing in front of a wooden table full of glasses, pots and other things he can’t name. As he comes closer, Yanan stands up and stops next to him. This is the closest he’s come near him willingly since he bit him.

 

“Look at that…”

 

There is a small glass plate on the table, a few drops of blood dispersed around the plate. In the middle, he recognizes an ancient golden emblem, something that shouldn’t be there at all. He wonders how many things like this HyunA is actually hiding in this shop.

 

The thing is, despite his obvious lack of knowledge concerning demon magic, he knows perfectly well how this item works. It is supposed to allow the bearer to find another demon, given they put a drop of blood on it. It only works with demons, as it has been forged solely for this purpose. It has been built by a demon, for demons.

 

“It… the fuck? It’s reacting with Anie’s blood?”

 

HyunA raises an eyebrow at the nickname, glancing quickly at the human who keeps getting more and more confused. She takes another tool, this one made of red and grey stone, and dips the tip in blood. It immediately starts radiating a warm red light, clear enough to allow them to see clearly in the dark room.

 

“What is this, Hyuna? What the fucking hell is happening?”

 

“I don’t know… But I can tell one thing. These things were made to be used by demons, and demons only. Angel’s blood would break it in a million pieces. Human’s blood would just let it as it is. Other creatures… I’m not sure. But that... this reaction can only be obtained with pure demon blood.”

 

Hyojong can feel his face loosen as realisation hits him. His hand clenchs on the little book next to him, and when he turns toward Yanan, he can feel his body burn with anger.

 

Without thinking, he jumps next to him and pushes him violently against the wall. He grabs his collar, holding him up. It doesn’t matter that he is smaller, he can feel his demonic strength take him over fast.

 

“Who the fuck are you?”

 

“What?” Yanan meekly whispers, terrified. “I’m… who are _you_?”

 

“It doesn’t fucking matter, I’m not the one who hurt you! What you did to me… it’s not normal, not even for someone like me. So answer me! Who are you?”

 

His anger is boiling inside him, making his vision blurry and his hands shake. Deep inside, he knows he shouldn’t put him through that, he knows he should ask calmly and explain everything. But the fear, as well as the feeling of betrayal, were making him crazy.

 

“You lied to me,” he snarled, just an inch away from his face.

 

“What? No, I- No I didn’t lie about anything! I don’t know what you’re talking about, and I don’t know how I hurt you. I’m just… me. Yanan. I’d never lie to you…” he whispers, in the way he usually does when it’s just the two of them, laying together on his bed in the dark. It’s intimate, delicate, and reminds Hyojong of homemade meals he eats with him, of soft blankets late at night, of the shampoo he always steals when he’s over at his place, and of the warmth of his lips when he kisses him goodnight.

 

It reminds him of Yanan’s home, their home in a way, of how much he wants to stay in his arms and sleep soundly, and suddenly all anger has disappeared. The bitterness and confusion are all that remains. He slowly lets go of Yanan, his head dropping low until it hits his chest. Then he doesn’t move, waiting for Yanan to hug him.

 

And he does.

 

“I’m sorry Anie. I’m sorry I hurt you, and I’m sorry I scared you.”

 

“It’s ok. I don’t understand anything, but this must have been a bit of a shock to you.”

 

“That’s a way to put it,” HyunA says sarcastically. She puts a hand on Hyojong’s shoulder in a comforting way, as she ads “Let’s go downstairs ok? I’ll make you some tea and then we’ll talk.”

 

* * *

 

“You are _what_?”

 

Hyojong sighs, and Hyuna smiles softly, in an almost condescending way.

 

It is surely too late to have such a conversation, but they refuse to wait until the morning. They can’t let Yanan scare himself away by making up theories on his own. So Hyojong exhales slowly, putting down his tea cup, and looks for his eyes. He doesn’t want to touch him, too afraid Yanan would push him away.

 

“I am, as well as Hyuna, a demon.”

 

“A demon? So… you come from hell?”

 

He can’t help the laugh that comes out at that. _Hell._ Right. He had forgotten Yanan has probably only heard of demons in a religious context.

 

“Hm, no. There is no such thing. The Demon Realm, as it is called, is a vast land, populated with other demons and… creatures somewhat similar to animals. It is true that we were born because of a curse, but we’re not really the representation of all sins or whatever you’ve been told.”

 

“Woh. It’s… You… You’re not human…”

 

They remain silent for a long time, both demons watching Yanan’s every move with extreme attention. He seems lost in his thoughts, barely breathing, face unreadable.

 

“So… why are you living there?”

 

Hyuna looks at him, eyes full of worries. She knows perfectly well that he never mentions the reasons that made him leave their home, but he gives her a reassuring smile.

 

“Many things happened back home, and it became difficult for me to live a peaceful life there. So despite how dangerous it is for us to remain in the Human World, I decided to stay. But I need… I need energy, that I usually get from the atmosphere in the Demon Realm, but have to get in a different way here.”

 

He bites his lower lip, anxious. This part isn’t the funniest. Yanan looks at him with his big doe eyes, curious.

 

“How do you do that?”

 

“Well. The easiest way is to eat a human soul. But that would mean killing. It’s too much trouble. So I simply feed off of a part of the human’s stamina. Usually it makes the person feel weak and sleepy, but after a few days of sleep, it’s like nothing has happened. And… we can also drink blood. Which is what HyunA does.”

 

After that, Yanan’s eyes become somber, and Hyojong becomes afraid he’s made a mistake.

 

“Is that why you started talking to me, then?” he asks solemnly, his voice low but firm.

 

“No! No, no, it’s not that. Fuck, Anie, no. I may be a demon but I’m not a monster. I wouldn’t lie. Well some demons may, but I don’t.”

 

“Then why?”

 

He wasn’t expecting this question. He doesn’t have a prepared answer, so the words get tangled in his head, as his heart starts pounding like crazy. What is he supposed to say that does sound like the truth, but not enough to be the actual truth?

 

“You made me curious. You’re the prettiest creature I’ve ever met, and trust me, I’ve seen plenty of pretty things. And you were nice, and the cats seemed to like you so much… Oh my god, the cats! Of fucking course!”

 

The sudden realisation makes him get up from his chair, and he grabs his phone in his pocket, looking through his photos. Once he has what he wants, he puts the phone on the table towards the two others to show them the picture.

 

“This cat loves Yanan so much, except that she likes no one but me. And that’s because cats are very similar to demonic familiars. Their soul is kinda connected to the Realm so in a way, I remind her of home. And I was so confused when she started cuddling you, but now it’s all so clear.”

 

“Hyojong, you’re definitely dumber that I thought. How come you didn’t think about it before? That could have spared a lot of time and a lot of pain.”

 

HyunA is obviously tired of him, while Yanan keeps being more confused than ever. So Hyojong sits back down, and holds his hand.

 

“Anie, listen to me carefully. I can’t explain everything in detail, but there is only one thing in all worlds that demons can’t eat, and it’s demons themselves. If we were to just _try_ eating each other, we would die from excruciating pain before we are done.”

 

The look of fear doesn’t look good on his face. He holds onto his hand even tighter.

 

“What… what are you trying to say?” he lets out, his voice almost soundless.

 

“We can’t be sure, but it looks like you have demon blood in you.”

 

* * *

 

“Is he asleep?”

 

He steps outside without a sound and closes the door behind him. It’s so late the sun is starting to rise again, and the air is ice cold around them. From there, they can see the hills far away. Hyojong remembers that one time he went there on his own, the wind touching his skin, the sounds of the birds, the soft feeling of grass under his bare feet. He loved it there. There was no surprised HyunA loves it too.

 

“Yes, finally. He cried a lot.” Hyojong sits next to her on the bench, and takes the cigarette she hands him. “I didn’t know what to tell him.”

 

“It must be hard for him, I guess.” After long minutes of silence, she ads “What will you do now?”

 

He looks up at the sky, the smoke coming up into small puffs before disappearing. He can’t feel the tip of his fingers and his nose, yet he stays here without moving.

 

“I don’t know. He’ll probably not want to see me again. Then I’ll go on a trip, I guess. I don’t feel like keep working at the cafe if he doesn’t come.”

 

She looks at him with unreadable eyes. Her hair sways in the wind, red as ever. She hasn’t cut it in years now.

 

“And what if does? Want you.”

 

“I… don’t know.”

 

He suddenly stands up, stretching his body and shaking away the tiredness. He feels lost in this big world, still it doesn’t feel like missing home. Maybe what he misses is the recklessness of his acts before he knew. Maybe what he misses is how at peace he was feeling before Yanan. Maybe what he misses is the fading memory of how life used to be for him once upon a time in the Demon Realm.

 

Maybe he actually misses all of this.

 

But maybe, maybe, he also wants to fight to keep Yanan by his side ; and that is more frightening than anything he has ever felt.

 

“I think I want him to stay. I want to be able to reach for him whenever I feel like it, and I want to kiss him until he blushes beet red. And someway I want to come back to him everyday and smile when I see him cooking dinner. Maybe that’s the peaceful life I’ve wanted all along…”

 

He crouches down in front of the flowers that surround the building. They’re pretty and remind him of HyunA’s home back in the Demon Realm. They’re probably the same ; for all that he knows it is not forbidden.

 

“Can we just pretend like we’re normal for once?” he whispers, more to himself than for HyunA.

 

She sighs, and he knows she probably feels the same. That was the whole reason why she had left, and he left with her. Life as a demon wasn’t as easy as humans were pretending, only caring about sinning and being bad.

 

They had desires, dreams, wishes, rights and duties, rules to follow, laws to remember.

 

Here, they were free. They could pretend they were _normal_. It felt nice to have the sensation to finally belong.

 

“Maybe.”

 

And this simple word sounds so full of promises, so full of hope for the future, that Hyojong finds himself willing to believe in it.

 


	2. 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me a month to finally write that ending, even more since it's considerably shorter... I'm still glad some people read it, and I really sincerely hope this won't be a disappointment to you. Enjoy!

He is waiting impatiently in the kitchen. His tea is already cold, the sun high in the sky, snow slowly melting outside. He can’t hear anything but the soft sound of water drops falling from the broken tap. His fingers are hitting his cup in rhythm.

 

He feels restless, yet so tired he could fall asleep in this exact position despite how uncomfortable it is. HyunA has been alone with Yanan for more than 20 minutes now, and his mind has already gone over every possible scenario. He’s starting to go crazy.

 

Finally, after few minutes more, the door opens on Yanan. He’s wearing the same clothes as the day before, his hair a mess, his face red with sleep and traces of tears. Thousands of questions are on the tip of his tongue, but he just stays here, on his chair, letting him have enough space to get away from him.

 

HyunA comes in after him and without a word, but not without a quick glance at Hyojong, she leaves them alone. Yanan fiddles for a moment with the hem of his sweater before taking a seat in the chair near the window. The sun is now hidden behind thick white clouds.

 

“So... “ Hyojong says softly, not being able to stand the weight of the silence anymore.

 

“I… I understand that you kept it hidden from me,” Yanan finally whispered, eyes fixed on his shoes. “It was for your safety. But… I need to know one thing before.”

 

“Yes? Whatever you want.”

 

Hyojong bites his lip, hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate.

 

“What are your intentions toward me?”

 

The silence that follows just after feels even thicker than before, and Hyojong gulps with difficulty, not sure he remembers how to breathe. Not sure he knows what to say either, and once again, he feels lost in front of Yanan.

 

It’s such an unsettling feeling, to be so helpless in front of a mere human, and yet loving it so much he might become addicted to it. That’s one of the only thing he knows for sure now, how strong is his need of Yanan. He just has to find the right words, which shouldn’t be such a hassle. Shouldn’t, really, but when he takes a look at the other man, all his confidence flies away and he feels naked.

 

“I… My intentions.” he starts, because that’s better than nothing. “I think I like you. Hell, dude, you’re the first person I’ve voluntarily talked to in _decades_. That tells a lot. I barely ever interact with humans, except when I need to feed, because that might compromise the safety of my secret. But you…”

 

One of his hand pushes his hair away from his face, and he gets up. He hates how Yanan doesn’t seem to react at his words.

 

“I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted any other human before you. And trust me, I’ve met a lot. And… if that’s enough for you to trust me, I… I’d like to keep the thing we have together… whatever it is.”

 

He trips over his own words, tongue getting twisted, sounds coming out wrong, and he decides to stay quiet. It’s probably better than to embarrass himself any further.

 

Yanan suddenly gets up too, sweeping off the crinkles on his clothes, before looking at Hyojong straight in the eyes, gaze unwavering. Yet, his eyes are devoid of any feeling. It’s scarier than anything else Hyojong has expected.

 

“Take me back. Please.”

 

* * *

 

  
The silence weighing on them on their way back is on a whole other level than when they arrived. Hyojong barely dares to breathe, and both his hands are stuck on the steering wheel.

 

The same silence follows them as he walks with him to his apartment door. Though this time, when his hand brushes Yanan’s hand, he doesn’t push away. In a way, Hyojong feels relief untying one of the knots in his stomach.

 

“Hyojong?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“You probably have to work today, but… I’d appreciate it if you could come over sometime today so we could have a talk.”

 

“Alright. You must have a lot of questions, uh? It’s ok,” he ads on quickly as Yanan blushes. “I understand. I’ll go home and have a nap. I’ll come over around 8, alright?”

 

Yanan nods, and takes his keys out of his pocket to open the door. However, before going in, he turns around and looks at Hyojong, a long moment. Then he bends a little and kisses him, whispering a little ‘sleep well’ before literally fleeing and closing the door.

 

Hyojong, just like the idiot he’s pretty sure he has become, puts a hand on his lips and smiles. He feels all giddy, and suddenly doesn’t want to sleep anymore.

 

Maybe things aren’t as bad as he thinks they are.

 

 

* * *

  


He looks at the cup of tea in front of him with an empty stare. It has become a habit between them, just like it has with HyunA. They find each other around a cup of tea, a feeble excuse to busy their hands while failing to busy their minds. His fingers are starting to burn, the tea too hot, but the cup doesn’t move from there. It grounds him.

 

“I called HyunA before coming. She said she’ll help with whatever you need to find out why you have demon blood inside of you, and whether it is dangerous or not. She knows her stuff, it’ll be safe for you and she’ll keep everything a secret if you want to. She can even ask Yuto to help without him knowing what he does, she’s very good at that. You’ll see, it’ll be alright.”

 

He’s said all that without looking up a single second, the tea still burning his fingers, his feet still put one on the other out of a nervous habit. When Yanan stops him, however, he does look up at him, and gets lost in that soft smile and these deep eyes. Lost, but at ease. It’s the power he has on him, and Hyojong suddenly wonders if it’s all natural or if it’s because of the demon part in him.

 

“I don’t want to know.”

 

“What?”

 

That’s all that comes out of his mouth, and he has to put the cup back on the table with shaky hands just to make sure he doesn’t burn himself by accident.

 

“I don’t want to know, Hyojong. Not for now, at least. It’s still all new to me, and there are many things I don’t understand yet about this whole thing, but I want it to be about you. I want to learn about who you are and where you’re from.”

 

“But… aren’t you curious about yourself?” he replies, his brain trying with all its strength to understand the situation. He doesn’t. This is nothing he had planned.

 

“I am. But I am more curious about you, and mostly confused to be honest. I… I’m not sure of how to say that but… It’s odd, and I don’t want all my life to change at one time. Small steps?”

 

Yanan looks at him with his big doe eyes, the ones he loves so much, the ones that make him want to give him the world, the ones that put him at a loss for words.

 

“Yeah. Small steps. Whatever you need, Anie.”

 

“I need you.”

 

For once, Hyojong is the one that blushes, feeling his cheeks growing warm, and his gaze drops out of instinct. It’s crazy how he makes him feel, almost dizzy, almost drunk, on how good it is to be next to him. To be against him. To be his.

 

He turns around and pulls him into his arms, legs coming up to settle above Yanan’s, making himself small against his body. There, he feels like nothing could ever get wrong enough to make him feel unsafe.

 

“I still have to feed, Anie,” he says after a long time, and he’s afraid he has ruined the mood. “I just want to make sure you’re aware.”

 

“Yes, I am,” he replies with the softest voice, almost going unheard. “HyunA already told me about it.”

 

“Then she must have told you that I can’t feed from you.”

 

“Yes.”

 

The room goes silent again, but it’s now heavy, full of words neither of them wants to say, even when they both know them perfectly. If they were to be said, something would break between them, and they can’t take the risk.

 

Except that they have to ; so Hyojong does.

 

“I don’t want to feed off of someone else, Anie.”

 

“But you have to… ”

 

“I -” He tries to deny it, but he can’t lie to him ; he knows how obvious it has become, how his body is giving in more and more every day.

 

“She told me what you’re risking. I can’t let you take that risk.” Yanan’s voice is firm, almost cold and distant. Almost, but Hyojong knows better, and sees the pain in his eyes that don’t know how to hide anything.

 

“I can still drink blood the way HyunA does. Yuto will bring me some if I ask him to. He has a good supplier. It will do. It’ll have to.”

 

He looks at him with the same eyes, and all he can do is kissing him on the forehead to try to erase this image from his mind. It doesn’t work, but Yanan is smiling now.

 

“Until when?”

 

“Long enough.”

 

What Hyojong doesn’t say, is that he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know if blood will be enough to save his body long enough for him to find another suitable way to feed, or if it will save him at all to start with. He doesn’t know if he’ll be able to hold back from eating someone else’s energy, someone else’s flesh. He doesn’t know if he can hold on long enough until the moment they’ll find out why he can’t feed on Yanan.

But he has to.

 

He has to.

 

 

* * *

  


He hears the sounds coming from the room even with the door closed. His eyes shut, he focuses on what he can hear, what he can guess.

 

Everything else is silent here, but for once it feels normal. The last three months have been hard on him, trying to find a way to feed while trying not to get addicted to the blood he gets from Yuto. Because this is, sadly, one of the risks of feeding this way in such a state.

 

He shouldn’t have waited this long, he knows it perfectly. Yet he doesn’t regret it. That would mean regret ever meeting Yanan. He doesn’t regret that part. He doesn’t regret anything.

 

His body still tries to get him to feed, to find something, anything, that could make himself feel better. He’s becoming so frail, and accidents keep multiplying.

 

Everytime he breaks a glass at work, everytime he drops a plate at home, everytime his hands shake too much to hold the broomstick and clean around, everytime his phone is an inch away from escaping his grasp because he doesn’t control his body anymore, realisation hits him hard.

 

The breaking point is just days away, but the worst is having to reassure Yanan through every single ones of his breakdowns. There are more and more things he can’t do anymore, and he spends most of his free time sleeping. Obviously, Yanan notices, and tries his best to stay silent as it remains Hyojong’s decision, but as time flies by, and he becomes just a shadow of the man he was when they met, he becomes more vocal about his worries.

 

Hyojong sighs again, feeling himself drifting to sleep. Yanan comes out of the room before he does, and he forces himself to open his eyes again. He smiles at him when their eyes meet, worry taking its place on Yanan’s face. It’s the only expression he sees now when they’re together, hopelessly and vainly trying to make him forget his condition.

 

“Did you sleep?”

 

“Hm, I just rested. You’re done?”

 

“I won’t get any more done today. Want to eat something?”

 

“Yes, actually. That’s a great idea.”

 

Hyojong doesn’t need to eat food per se. However, he does enjoy eating, all the more since Yanan cooks for him. He isn’t the best, but he improves quickly, and the delight on his face when he tells him it’s amazing is worth everything. So he says he’s hungry, not really lying, not really telling the truth either.

 

He is pretty sure now that Yanan knows the truth, but is too kind, and maybe to happy to feed him, to actually talk about it openly. He just obliges, a smile on his face, though it’s becoming fainter with every passing day. He doesn’t follow him to the kitchen today, hoping he might get enough rest to go through the dinner without dozing off.

 

He wakes up in a hurry, a slender hand shaking him awake. His gaze stops on Yanan’s head, though it takes him a couple of minutes to steady his vision. There isn’t any light coming from outside anymore and the curtains are drawn; it must be pretty late.

 

“Did I sleep a lot?” he asks in a faint voice.

 

“An hour and a half. Dinner has been ready for some time but I didn’t want to wake you.”

 

“You should have.” he argues, realising immediately he should have stayed quiet.

 

“Of course not! Have you seen yourself lately Hyojong? I hold myself back from saying anything because you keep telling me you’re alright, but I’m not an idiot! I can see you… you dying in front of me. I want to do something, Hyojong.” His fingers come tangle themselves in the strands caressing his neck, and he suddenly notices that Yanan is kneeled in front of him. “Let me do something for you. Please…”

 

Words start ringing in his head, and he desperately wants to go back to sleep. Among the mess, he can make out the words HyunA told him through the phone some weeks ago, burning him slowly like embers. They ring louder than the other, urging him to finally let go.

 

_“He could let you feed, Hyojong. As long as you tell him the truth.”_

 

He doesn’t want to. As he stares at Yanan, he can only think of his scared face when he learned some part of him was a demon. He can only remember how afraid he was to find out the truth about himself. Hyojong wants to protect him, even if that means making himself suffer.

 

Even if that means breaking every inch of his body until he can’t take it anymore.

 

“Hyojong. You can’t stay like that.”

 

“I can. I’m fine, really. I can wait.”

 

“Wait for what?” he breathes softly, putting his forehead against his. Hyojong lets his eyes fall shut, savouring the delicate feeling.

 

“Wait for you.”

 

He takes his hand in his, comforting him slowly. He feels a shiver, and understands his hands must be ice cold.

 

“I’m scared, Hyojong. I keep asking myself these horrible questions, and I can’t keep them away. What if… what if one day I wake up and you’re not here? What if you disappeared? What if, you actually can’t wait and-”

 

“Stop here. I would never hurt you. Never.”

 

He tries to sound firm, but his voice breaks, weighed down by the guilt and the fear that is slowly eating him up too. He can’t deny he hasn’t had these thoughts himself. But he can still hide it, if Yanan stops looking at him with such despair in his eyes. Maybe, with enough persuasion, he can buy himself enough time to make up a real excuse.

 

But he can’t. Yanan slides his other hand against his neck, placing it here to keep him close and grounded, as his eyes chase Hyojong’s, hoping for an answer. The truth is on the tip of his tongue, pushing to get out finally. The pressure gets stronger and he’s too weak to resist any more.

 

“I’d never hurt you… but I don’t want to keep you away. And you’re right here looking so pretty while I’m so, so hungry. It’s so hard, Anie… so hard to remain calm.”

 

“You don’t have to. Come here.”

 

This is it. Trapped in Yanan’s embrace, he feels better than he ever has and feels his heart yearn for more, more, always more. It’s not enough, nowhere near as much as he needs, and he wants to drown into him. His scent, his warmth, his touch, his skin, his soft-spoken words, his delicate attentions. And most of all, the feeling of his blood flowing freely under every cell, so close to him, yet so far. He’s hasn’t allowed himself to even think about it, but now that he is so close, so intimate, his thoughts get blurry, his mind a mess, and he can’t process any sain idea anymore.

 

Everything is a mess, once again, except Yanan’s scent, luring him closer. Too close.

 

“Anie…” he all but moans in his neck, his sanity hanging on by a thread.

 

“I’m here. It’s fine. You’re fine. Don’t worry, I’m here.”

 

His voice is still so soft, so calm, it hits him in all the ways it shouldn’t. Inevitably, he does what he shouldn’t, and he breaks into heavy sobs, tears streaming down his face, as his teeth plant themselves into the thinner skin of Yanan neck.

 

From there, he isn’t sure about what happens. He can just feel, and what he feels is nowhere near something he can describe. It’s warm, it’s filling him up, it’s addictive, it’s satisfying. Satisfying in the way he’s been looking for, and when the feeling finally dies down inside of him, it is replaced by an even softer sensation of peacefulness.

 

He feels like crying again.

 

“Hyojong? Hyojong?”

 

He finally comes back to his senses, his fingers untangling from Yanan’s hair. He hadn’t even noticed they had come there. His eyes focus once again, Yanan’s face appearing slowly as his gaze sets on him. He’s smiling, but the rest of his expression is completely unreadable.

 

“Anie?”

 

“Oh my, you scared me! You should warn me before you do this kind of things!”

 

His voice rings in his head, and he feels the headache coming up, closing his eyes immediately.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“What do _you_ mean, what do I mean? I didn’t push you away this time, but still! It took me by surprise.”

 

Suddenly, he is hit by a flash of sensations. His face flush, his cheeks still wet, his mouth covered in blood, his fingers aching from holding on too tight. But mostly, his body feeling safe again, sain, valid.

 

He is fine.

 

“Anie… what did I do? What did I do to you?”

 

His hands stop at the collar of his shirt, putting it aside to see the wound clearly. It’s there, bare and bloody, as if staring up at him, glaring at him.

 

God, he has _hurt_ him.

 

“I bit you. For fuck’s sake, Yanan, I bit you! Why didn’t you push me away?”

 

“It didn’t hurt. Well, it kind of did hurt, but not like last time. You are ok too, right? You… you needed it.”

 

And he can’t deny it. It’s the truth, the ugly truth, the truth he had tried so hard to keep away from him. He had needed it so much, and a part of him can’t manage to feel guilty about it all. But the other part, the prevailing part, is crushed by the guilt more and more as each second passes.

 

Yet, Yanan is right. It didn’t hurt, like the first time. He can’t explain it, or doesn’t want to, but the fact is still there, obvious to both of them.

 

“I did. I still shouldn’t have. Baby, I could’ve hurt you so bad…”

 

He grabs him by his neck, once again putting his forehead against Yanan’s, desperate to comfort him. Or maybe comfort himself. At this point, he isn’t sure which one he is doing anymore.

 

“But you didn’t. I trusted you.”

 

And HyunA’s words make themselves heard once again, loud, clear, in his head. And he wants to cry again, even if is eyes are too dry. And he wants to laugh until his throat gets sore. And he wants to hug Yanan and kiss him and tell him how much he loves him, because he deserves nothing more than the truth.

 

And that’s the truth.

 

“I love you.”

 

The words flow smoothly like honey in his ears, and this time tears really stroll down his face, but not because of happiness. Because of fear, and relief, which is truly the strangest mix of emotions he has ever felt.

 

“Fuck… I told you not to fall in love with me.”

 

“I guess I didn’t understand it really well. You should have said it in Chinese.”

 

A laugh gets caught in his throat, strangled by too many emotions. He can’t believe he still manages to try humour in this situation.

 

“You brat.” he whispers as he pushes himself back to watch the wound. “Does it hurt?”

 

“A little.”

 

“Let’s get you all cleaned then.”

 

He stands up fully and pulls Yanan with him in the same motion. The dinner is long forgotten when they’re done with the bandage, taking off their clothes to finally go to bed. It’s a little too late to hope getting enough rest, but they both need it.

 

They fall asleep in each other’s arms, in a way Hyojong had missed.

 

He doesn’t know much about their future, in the same way he came all the way here driven only by instinct. What he knows, though, is that Yanan is now the most precious thing he owns, and he will try all his might to protect him for as long as needed will be.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Yanan makes a face at his hair, complaining that he liked the blond shade a lot. Hyojong jokes by saying that if he likes that much, he can get it for himself.

 

A week after, he comes home to homemade dinner and  a blond Yanan, and dies of laughter in the middle of the living room.

  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hate this ending, but I can't get myself to write anything better. I feel like it lacks a lot. Sorry I can't do any better, but thanks anyway for reading all the way to here!
> 
> I have the same name on Tumblr if you want to yell at me, and see you again hopefully soon with another disaster! ^^ Until next time, take care ~

**Author's Note:**

> Ew. Yeah. I liked that last sentence haha. 
> 
> I'm on tumblr (umi-wo-mitai) if you want to yell at me for that mess. Thanks for reading all this!  
> Until next time, stay healthy and drink water!


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